


On the Alternate Uses of Medicinal Herbs

by androgenius



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Azure Moon Route, Drug-Induced Sex, Exhibitionism, Kink Meme, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: Dedue has had enough of watching his king and his advisor dance around each other's feelings. So he takes matters into his own hands; after all, he doesn't have an extensive knowledge of herbology for nothing.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	On the Alternate Uses of Medicinal Herbs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this FE3H [kink meme](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=61404#cmt61404) prompt: 
> 
> Post-timeskip Dimitri and Felix have tea while discussing state affairs when it becomes clear that something sketchy was certainly in the tea and now Felix is so desperately hot and horny he feels like he will die if he doesn't get off. You know how it is.
> 
> Possibly Dimitri is also under these effects, or just Felix. Bonus points if Dedue was trying to help Dimitri get laid with his Plant Knowledge. Bonus points also for public or semi-public sex, and for it being extremely awkward but Dimitri truly does want to help!!! Oh the drama of taking advantage of your disproportionately horny advisor.

It has been a long summer.

It's not strictly speaking _unusual_ for Faerghus, which does, on occasion, end up with fairly dreadful summers, but it is rarer than it might have been in the Adrestian Empire or the Leicester Alliance, something Felix is fairly grateful for.

But there are always exceptions to every rule.

Felix _hates_ summer.

The whole week has been sweltering, clothing sticking to skin so stubbornly that he has been forced to shed everything but the essentials in order to not sweat himself to death. He still has to look like a decent advisor to King Dimitri, though, and so he is still far more dressed than he might have otherwise preferred.

This meeting over tea-- tea! hot tea!-- is no different, Felix glaring at his cup of Almyran pine needle as though it might kill him.

It might. Dimitri doesn't know.

"Felix. It feels like it has been ages since we last got to sit down like this. You're looking well."

"Don't patronize me, boar."

Much to his chagrin, the boar chuckles, light and soft and without a care in the world. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Really."

Felix is fairly certain that there isn't a single thing not presently stuck to him via sweat alone.

He takes a sip of tea. Still good, even when it's killing him with heat. Damn the boar.

"I know you far too well to take advantage of you in such an obvious way, Felix."

"You'd do it behind my back, is it?"

Dimitri lets out a laugh that really should irritate him but doesn't.

"You never change, do you? I am... grateful that you elected to come on as my advisor. Aiding me in this capacity... it is more than I could have hoped for from you after all that we've been through."

"It's been a month. I'd hardly call this a new position."

"All the same." Dimitri lifts his teacup with all the grace and poise of someone who has always been king. Felix knows better than anyone that it couldn't be further from the truth, not considering all the blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into shaping himself into something resembling royalty.

It has been a long road.

"You have been working tirelessly of late; the least I can do is acknowledge your efforts and tell you how much I appreciate your presence here. And... ah, I have... missed this, spending time with you."

The tea is still hot, but the need to hide his blush behind the cup outweighs the minor inconvenience of a mildly burned tongue.

"Mm." He swallows. Sets the cup down. Curls his hands atop the table into loose fists. "We don't work that far apart."

"That's hardly what I meant. I presumed when you agreed to this... _arrangement_ of ours that it would allow us to spend more time together. Ah-- personally, not in a work capacity."

His color deepens, Felix glaring at the floor of the balcony playing host to their afternoon tea. This is... embarrassing.

"Don't make it sound as though we're having an affair."

"Felix," Dimitri says slowly, all emphatic seriousness as he leans in to place his hand atop Felix's, "I would very much appreciate it if we could repair our relationship-- our _friendship_ \-- properly, this time."

Friendship. Right. That's what he's thinking about right now while staring at Dimitri's hand on top of his.

He thinks he might burst into flames right here, right now.

"Sure," he says instead, feeling his temperature rise by the second.

He takes another sip of his tea if only to give his hands something to do. Is he sweating and overheated out of embarrassment? Shame? The mortifying prospect of being known, once more, by Dimitri? Dimitri, who knew him so intimately before they had their untimely falling out?

He supposes that's not entirely fair to him. After all, it wasn't his fault they had said falling out. That had been entirely Felix's decision to cut him more or less entirely out of his life for almost a decade.

Dimitri hardly seems affected at all by the heat or the shame, his face a perfectly ordinary color even as he draws back his hand and leaves Felix to miss it.

How very selfish of him.

Pulling his own back to hide in his lap ends up being a mistake, Felix's eyes widening as he realizes that he's half-hard.

Grabbing the cup of tea to down the rest of it, he keeps his focus on the tablecloth. Dimitri is saying things, isn't he? Felix isn't listening. It's something he should be paying attention to, whether it be about matters of state or their relationship, and yet his attention span has been permanently diverted, his gaze falling to Dimitri's lips.

He doesn't have a problem controlling himself on most days. Why is he struggling now? Is this his punishment for having not masturbated in a while? It's hardly his fault that he's been busy. As far as he's concerned, it's been a necessary evil in allowing him to adjust to his life here. Dimitri is _everywhere_ , and wherever he isn't, reminders of him still litter his surroundings. Books that Felix knows he likes, portraits of him with his father or of him as regent, the servants gossipping about whom King Dimitri might take to the function next month--

It's enough to make one sick, Felix in particular.

When he has touched himself, thoughts of Dimitri would always inevitably slip into his mind and past his defenses despite his best attempts. He'd been so certain that he'd gotten over this childish crush years ago.

Certainly, it had resurfaced while they'd been at the academy. And then again, when they'd regrouped at Garreg Mach. But this--

This is different. They're adults now. Felix is Dimitri's _advisor_. Neither of them has time to indulge in such ridiculous dalliances--

"Felix? Are you quite well?"

It occurs to him that the answer is almost certainly a _no_. Having worked a lone finger into his collar to try and tug it away from his throat-- _anything_ to dispel the heat-- he finds it a pointless endeavor.

His mind strays further from Dimitri's words, slipping into the obscene. More than just kissing Dimitri, he's thinking about wrapping his lips around his cock, about pinning him down and just taking his cock inside himself without asking.

He's rock hard.

"No," he rasps, the mental visual of Dimitri fucking into him slowly coming to dominate all other coherent thought.

"Felix!"

The clatter of a chair pushed back too hastily cuts through the fog of his arousal, which only seems to be getting thicker by the second, reality increasingly hard to parse. His hand moves to his crotch on instinct, Felix rutting up against the friction even as he notices how low he appears to have slid in his seat.

Fuck.

"Did you drug me?" he rasps, Dimitri's face-- so close, so very, very close-- now in his immediate field of view.

"Wha-- no, Felix, of course not! Are you-- can you stand? I'll call for a healer--"

" _Don't_ ," Felix hisses, grabbing hold of Dimitri's shirtfront to drag him in closer. "Don't you dare."

For the first time since leaving his chair, Dimitri gives Felix a proper once-over.

Felix knows it proves true when he sees Dimitri's features color, eyes wide.

" _Oh_ ," he says slowly, and then again, " _ **oh**_."

"What did you _do_ , boar?"

"Nothing! Felix, please-- as if I would-- I would never take advantage of you in such a base way--"

And yet, looking at him now, Felix sees that he's hard, too. Is it the sight of him that has twisted his mind askew?

He decides he doesn't care, grabbing onto his front once more to drag him in close.

This time, it's to kiss him, hard and sloppy and everything a first kiss shouldn't be.

He'll have time to regret that decision later. Right now, all he cares about is Dimitri letting his tongue slip past the seam of his lips, hand releasing now-crinkled fabric to slide lower down his body so he might reach--

Dimitri pushes him back, and Felix realizes he might just come to regret it sooner than expected as he takes in Dimitri's alarm.

"You do not want this, Felix! Not with me."

"Don't tell me what I want, you beast."

"You--" A shaky exhale. Dimitri's hands start running up and down Felix's arms. It's... nice. Pleasant. There are dozens of places he'd prefer his hands to be right this second, though. "Felix, I will not pretend that this isn't something that I have thought of on more than one occasion. But I-- I am more than acutely aware of how you feel about me. You are clearly affected by something. I beg of you, allow me to find a healer, a medic of sorts that might be able to help you. Perhaps even a courtesan...?"

"Don't you fucking dare. Just fucking take me already."

He knows he sounds well past the point of obscene and ridiculous.

Felix doesn't care.

"Take you?" Dimitri looks incredulous. "Take you where?"

"In my ass, boar! Shove your ridiculously massive cock inside of me before I lose my mind--"

Once more, he lunges for Dimitri, who promptly pushes him back by the shoulders and holds him there.

"Felix!" he hisses. "This is a dreadful idea-- you are clearly not in your right mind and I would be taking advantage of you in more ways than one--! As your friend and your liege, I can hardly engage in such a betrayal of your trust--"

Felix's hand curls around Dimitri's bulge, a reminder of the evidence of his own arousal.

" _Fuck me_ , boar."

This time when he kisses him, Dimitri doesn't resist. The kiss is as clumsy as any first would be-- _should be_ , perhaps-- but hotter, messier, more desperate and needy. Fingers curl into the front of the boar's shirt once more even as the others keep stimulating him through his pants.

It's not enough.

He undoes the fastening at the front in an attempt at freeing his erection when Dimitri's hand shoots out to still his wrist, eyes wide as he pulls back from their kiss to stare at Felix. His eyes are hooded, pupils wide with arousal, and he can't help but wonder if the boar isn't just as affected by-- whatever this is-- as he is.

A small comfort in light of his current alarm.

"Felix," he gasps, "we're in _public_."

"I don't care." His hand unclenches around the fabric of Dimitri's shirt.

"On a _balcony_."

"So?" Allowing it to wander lower, he slips it past the waistband to cup his erection fully, skin to skin.

Dimitri's inhale is sharp, followed by a full-body shudder.

"F-Felix--"

"Mm."

"Anyone could see us."

It's a last stand. They both know as much. Which is precisely why Felix wastes no time in kissing him again.

Something inside of Dimitri seems to snap: Felix feels himself pushed back against the railing, a hand snaking down to touch _him_ , for once, and just for a second, he doesn't mind the sweat, doesn't mind the fact that all his clothes feel damp.

His touch is addictive; like an addict, Felix chases the high again and again with every time his hips rut up against Dimitri's hand.

" _Touch me_ ," he groans against kiss-swollen lips, "like you _mean it_."

Dimitri has always been good at taking direction: Fingers fumble rapidly with the buckles of his pants until they're shoved to mid-thigh, Dimitri sinking to his knees without question.

 _Just fuck me_ is what he wants to say, but only half the sounds come out, most of them garbled as a hot, wet mouth wraps about his cock and sinks down to the hilt.

His head falls back with a groan. Dimitri's enthusiasm, however misplaced, can be commended. It feels good to have a tongue running down along the underside of his cock, so, so good to feel the head of his cock sink into a willing throat, and yet-- all he can think about is how badly he wants-- no, _needs_ \-- to get _fucked_.

"Dimi-- _boar_ \-- you're supposed to _fuck me_ \--"

Dimitri seems to answer him by prodding a questing finger at his entrance only to promptly pull off his cock, eyes wide.

"Felix, you're-- you're--"

"If it's going to get your dick in me sooner, just fucking spit it out; otherwise, keep it to yourself."

"Did you-- _prepare_ for this?" In answer to Felix's incredulous look, he continues, "you're _wet_."

It's possibly the last thing he expected to hear, Felix reaching back to confirm.

"What the _fuck_ did you give me?!"

"Dedue prepared the tea in advance, I could not possibly have known--"

"Then _why_ is this shit only affecting me?!" He ignores, quite pointedly, the fact that he's Dimitri's mouth on his cock has at least served to abate some of his frustration. But it's not much and far from a cure, something that only becomes more obvious with each and every ticking second that he _isn't_ sucking him off.

"It isn't," Dimitri says, suddenly taking his hands off of Felix to struggle with his own pants. _Struggle_ is putting it lightly-- he felt the considerable bulge before, but now Dimitri seems to genuinely be fighting against fabric in an attempt to free his erection.

Sure enough. More than huge, he's obviously painfully hard. Then-- they're both affected? Just… Dimitri less so.

He swallows his emotions, his panic at the thought that Dimitri will come to regret this after, and turns around to bend himself over the railing.

"Go on, then. Shove your massive cock in my ass before I change my fucking mind and go sleep with the staff."

As though he would ever stoop so low.

Dimitri doesn't have to be convinced, though, instead moving to stand and slotting his cock in place. Slow thrusts up and down are more torment and torture than anything else, Felix about to snipe at him over his shoulder when he finally sinks inside of him.

He groans, half-sob, half-desperation.

 _Finally_.

Words die on his tongue as he feels Dimitri sink inside of him all the way down to the hilt, the noise leaving him bordering on inhuman when he begins to thrust-- slow to start and rapidly gaining speed.

Something they both need-- raw, desperate, and fast. Anything to quench the fire lit inside of him by whatever the fuck was in his-- in _their_ tea.

" _Fuck_ \--"

In truth, he thinks he might die if he doesn't taste Dimitri's come in the back of his throat soon. If Dimitri doesn't imprint his very shape inside of him. If--

If they stop doing this once the thirst is extinguished.

A quiet thought, meant to be silent.

Dimitri wraps his hand around his still spit-slicked cock and starts to stroke him in time with his own thrusts. Felix thinks he could weep from sheer relief at the friction, the repeated slap of skin against skin, hot and wet from sweat and sun beating down on them--

Right. They're… out in the open.

Looking up and over the stone railing that his fingernails have been digging into-- a sensation bordering on painful-- Felix groans. If the staff can see them from the gardens below-- and they most certainly can-- then they're not commenting. Keeping their mouths shut about the king and his advisor and their suddenly very public relationship.

"Come in me, boar," he gasps, turning to look over his shoulder at Dimitri.

Dimitri, who is even beautiful when he fucking _glistens_.

"Say it right," Dimitri says, his expression momentarily contorted into something like pain. "I am your king, not a _boar_ \--"

" _Dima_ ," he gasps, feeling himself come at the behest of Dimitri's hand, cum splattering the stone below.

The relief is overwhelming enough that he almost misses the stuttered staccato of Dimitri's hips signaling his own release as it pours into him, his forehead coming to rest on Felix's back as he rides out the rest of it.

Silence descends. The staff is holding their tongues, then.

"Felix."

"I don't want to hear it."

He can. He can still hear the word, the _name_ on his tongue like a sore reminder, a spot where he's been burned by too-hot food. It's as though his every insecurity, every vulnerability has been laid out for Dimitri to see.

Wasn't it enough for him to almost call him _Dimitri_ earlier?

"You're still hard."

Oh.

"Oh." So he is.

Fuck.

"I'm going to kill Dedue," he mutters, the thought cut off only by Dimitri pulling out of him and kissing him again, his hand finding Felix's.

At least he's not the only one still hard.

"I was not kidding before, when I said it had, ah… been on my mind before. So if you would allow me--"

"Just fuck me again and then don't stop," Felix says, and steals another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter [@androugenius](https://twitter.com/androugenius)!


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